[Gunnwesley] FIC: Assistance Required (2/2)

[Katarina Hjärpe]

header in part 1

*****



Gunn glanced from the black shoes on the floor to Wesley's face, seeking an 
explanation.

"Those are Angel's. He's staying here for a while."

Gunn frowned at that. He didn't like the thought of Wesley's apartment being 
occupied by anyone else, and especially not that vampire. "Why?"

A slight blush tinged Wesley's face. "To help out."

Gunn looked down for a moment. He still didn't know exactly what that girl 
had done to Wesley, and much less why. Alonna wouldn't tell him a damn 
thing, and that alone told him that it had to be pretty bad. It confused and 
sickened him. He couldn't think of anything about Wesley – *Wesley*, for 
fuck's sake – that might make some girl want to beat him up.

It hurt to see those bruises and bandages, to know that he hadn't been able 
to do a damn thing to prevent Wesley from being injured. But it hurt more to 
know that now that he could help, Wesley wouldn't let him.

"I could have done that," he said, looking up again.

"I know." Wesley's face was impossible to read. "But I wanted Angel to do 
it."

Gunn nearly lost his breath at this bold admission. Fuck, what was he 
supposed to say to that? "Maybe I should just leave, then?"

He grabbed his jacket and as he did so noticed for the first time the tan 
suede jacket hanging next to it. That definitely wasn't the vampire's, 
unless he liked to wear women's clothes half his size. "Who else is here?"

"What? There's no one else... ah. That's Buffy's. She must have forgotten it 
here."

"Buffy? Who's Buffy, a hooker?"

"Of course not. She's the Slayer." Wesley didn't seem as perturbed by the 
idea that he could be entertaining hookers as Gunn would have expected. That 
was part of the reason he'd done it, to embarrass Wesley and make him forget 
about all the other stuff.

That and the fact that "Buffy" really did sound like a hooker – or in any 
case, didn't sound like anything potentially harmful, which "Slayer" without 
a doubt did.

"What's a Slayer?"

Wesley didn't answer at first, and there was a moment when Gunn thought he'd 
refuse to answer, but finally he said, "A vampire slayer. There's a girl 
chosen in every generation..." He waved away the rest of the explanation. 
"Never mind."

Gunn stared at the jacket. No way was it more than a size six. "She's here 
to kill the vamp?"

For some reason, that caused Wesley's mouth to twist. The idea of a girl 
that size killing any vampire at all was dumb, of course, but Gunn had a 
feeling that wasn't what that half-smile was all about.

"Not at all. She's here because of Faith."

Gunn blinked – whose faith? – but then he remembered. That was her name. 
"The girl who..."

"Yeah." Wesley reached out for the jacket and then let his hand fall down, 
instead retreating further into the apartment. "Do you want to... stay... 
for a while?" he asked awkwardly.

The polite phrase revealed no emotions, but Gunn knew better than to think 
there was nothing more to it. And for once his nervousness at what Wes 
probably meant was overshadowed by irritated confusion: why the *fuck* would 
Wes want to be suggesting things when it wasn't five minutes since he said 
he'd rather have an undead creature in the house than him?

"Yeah," he said, because it was all he *could* say.

It was a weird feeling, to go into Wesley's bedroom and know that whatever 
happened in there, it was likely to be something he hadn't tried before. The 
whole vampire in the kitchen situation didn't exactly calm him down either.

It had been years since he was last this nervous in someone's bedroom, and 
even then he'd always known that nothing could happen unless he wanted it 
to. Not that he didn't trust Wes or actually thought Wes was strong enough 
to overpower him, but just having to come to that conclusion was much too 
strange.

"Come on in," Wesley said. "And do sit down, you're making me nervous."

"Glad to hear I'm not the only one," Gunn muttered.

But he sat down, only to scoot closer to Wes and kiss him. If he made sure 
to initiate every move, he couldn't ever be taken by surprise.

Wesley moaned. And it wasn't an "oh, yes, that's amazing!" moan. It was an 
"ow, that hurts" moan. Gunn immediately pulled away.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just bruised, that's all."

That wasn't all, judging from what he could see of Wesley's injuries, and 
beyond that, what he had seen in his sister's face when he tried to pry 
information from her.

"Maybe we shouldn't..."

Wesley rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," he said, leaning in for 
another kiss.

He did no more moaning, but Gunn could feel the little flinches when he 
accidentally touched a sore spot. Though he was sure Wesley would let him 
know if anything was too painful, he still felt a bit guilty. That he was 
there at all with sex on his mind at a time like this, after dancing around 
the issue at so many better times. That he hadn't been there to help, and 
Alonna had to be the one to do so. And maybe most of all that he *still* 
wasn't helping, because Wes had asked that goddamned vampire instead.

Since he didn't want to think of that, he went on with the kissing, 
unbuttoning Wesley's shirt so he could trail his way down there. It was hard 
to avoid the cuts and bruises, and he could tell from each of Wesley's 
breaths if he had failed or not. Funny, he'd been playing Indiana Jones a 
lot as a kid, but this was a scene he'd never have expected to mimic – 
especially not as Marion.

There was a definite limit of things he could do with Wesley hurting like 
this.  Gunn kept kissing his way down and unzipped Wesley's pants, but then 
he paused. Theoretically he knew just how to continue – he'd seen several 
girls do it, not to mention Wesley just a few days ago – but how the hell 
did you *do* it? Wesley didn't look any different from other guys he'd seen 
naked, and yet he panicked at the thought of taking that dick into his 
mouth. It wasn't like the guy was a fucking *hamburger*; you couldn't *chew* 
him if the bite was too big.

A hand stroked his scalp softly. "Just do what you want to do."

He let his hand touch the tip of Wesley's dick. It felt perfectly normal, 
with a hard-on not unlike what he faced every morning. It felt a lot 
different, of course, touching someone else's. It was a pretty awesome 
sensation, though, seeing Wesley close his eyes and take a deep breath that 
had nothing to do with pain and everything with delight.

He continued moving his hand, leaving his mouth free to kiss Wesley's chest. 
Now *he* was getting hard too, and he was relieved when Wesley started 
tugging at his pants.

"Watch the bandage," he warned.

"I'll get a new one."

And maybe he should argue that, but he didn't feel like it, not with 
Wesley's head bowed down over his own and the two of them working their 
hands in rhythm until it was very hard to tell his own hand from Wesley's. 
Compared to this, doing girls was like going in blind, never knowing what 
would make them feel good until afterwards.

Beyond that, this just felt *right* in a way he couldn't explain even to 
himself. It wasn't that he cared more for Wes than any of the others. Some 
of them had meant a lot to him.

Whatever the reason, he liked the result. He leaned his face upwards, 
catching Wesley's mouth with his own. Though their hands were working 
softly, Wesley was surprisingly rough meeting the kiss, and Gunn followed 
his lead.

Someone knocked on the front door.

Wesley pulled back and gave a doubtful glance in the direction of the 
bedroom door, but Gunn reached out for him again.

"Fuck 'em."

Wesley smiled a little, which caused Gunn to continue, "And spare me any 
lame-ass jokes, Pryce," before he caught that teasing mouth again.

He could hear Wes mumble, "Oh, well, I suppose Angel can handle it," but 
didn't reply. What was it about that crazy bloodsucker that made Wesley 
trust him so much? Yeah, okay, he grasped the concept of a soul, not evil, 
all of that, but hey, *he* wasn't evil either. He also had the advantage of 
a pulse and his full marbles, so he really didn't get what made the 
*vampire* a better choice for help.

But he wasn't about to let that bother him. Not now.

**********

Wesley had expected Buffy to return. He hadn't expected her to bring Giles. 
He wasn't sure why the presence of his former colleague should bother him so 
much, but the look of shock and pity he was given as he entered the living 
room was somehow worse than the many similar looks he received daily.

It almost made him wish that Buffy would say something unsuitable. She 
looked very much about to, and he knew that she, Angel and Giles all had 
grasped at least some of what had been going on in the other room, even 
though both he and Gunn had been fairly quiet. If she brought that up, it 
would be awkward, naturally, but it wouldn't make him feel so small.

Then again, Gunn would probably feel very different about such matters 
becoming topic of conversation.

He'd have to introduce Gunn somehow. Part of him rather hoped Angel would do 
it, but of course that was a ludicrous idea. He just wasn't sure what to 
say. "Friend" felt wrong after what had just happened – particularly since 
they knew about it. "Boyfriend", on the other hand, was out of the question. 
So when he opened his mouth, what he found himself saying was:

"Did you find the drug?"

Everyone was already looking at him, but at his casual question there was a 
vague shift in those looks that indicated they were turning into stares.

"Uh... yeah," Buffy said. "Giles still had the recipe."

"The formula," Giles mumbled, and he was quite right. 'Recipe' just didn't 
sound dignified. Words were important.

And just then, Wesley found the right word after all.

"This is Charles Gunn, my partner," he said. "Gunn, these two are Buffy 
Summers and Rupert Giles."

"Nice to meet you."

Wesley watched Gunn watching the newcomers, and he could see a slight 
wrinkle between Gunn's eyebrows that implied he still hadn't quite grasped 
the concept of a Slayer. Wesley found it rather amusing, and in any case it 
was a break from everyone looking at him.

But Gunn's words hung unanswered in the air for so long Wesley started to 
wonder if he was the one who'd have to initiate every brief conversation, 
and if so, what would happen if he didn't. Would they just stand there 
silently the whole night?

At long last, Giles was the one to break the silence.

"I have some good friends at a coven in England. That's where we will be 
taking Faith."

Wesley nodded. He had tried to figure out what to do with Faith, since he 
very much doubted that drugs could hold her down for very long, but no 
solution had come to mind. A coven sounded reassuring, and an English coven 
even more so. He couldn't think of a better place for Faith to be than in 
the last country on earth he intended to return to.

Gunn reacted very differently. "A coven? With... what, witches? Wouldn't a 
prison be better?"

"I don't think there's a prison that will hold her," Buffy said, and for the 
first time since Angel had hugged her in the kitchen, her expression 
softened a little. It was immensely troublesome to see, and Wesley scowled, 
but he wasn't really surprised. Buffy's attitude towards Faith had never 
been particularly logical.

"But you two would?" Gunn's disdain came with a half grin and a friendly 
voice, but that didn't make it any less obvious.

The softness in Buffy's expression disappeared. "For the time we need, yeah! 
But if you'd like to come with... make sure we're doing things right... 
you're very welcome to do so."

Wesley stiffened, hoping Gunn wouldn't take the offer. It had never occurred 
to him that Buffy would want their help on that part of the plan, although 
it surely would be just as tricky to get Faith out of the country as out of 
the hospital. And Gunn had practically challenged her.

"To England?" Gunn asked, a disbelieving wrinkle forming on his upper lip.

"That's the place."

"The more people the better, obviously," Giles said rather hurriedly while 
Buffy was still speaking.

He was trying to smooth things over, but by doing so he'd suddenly included 
Wesley in the invitation.

"I can't go, I'm afraid," he said, glad to have a good excuse. "My green 
card has expired. If I left, I wouldn't be able to come back."

"And I don't even have a passport," Gunn said, frowning.

"Neither does Faith," Buffy pointed out. "We're getting her a fake - I'm 
sure we could get more."

Giles was ignoring those comments, looking steadily at Wesley, but the gaze 
was different from before and somewhat easier to take. "Expired? How could 
it have expired already?"

"Long story." He suspected Giles thought the Council was responsible, but 
didn't bother to explain.

"Well, as Buffy said, we could get you a fake passport..."

"I'd really rather not." He'd said that a bit too quickly, but it was too 
late to remedy that now. "Anyway, we do need people here too, in order to 
delay Weatherby and the others. Unless you have a plan for that?"

Giles frowned slightly. "Not really, no. Having a second team here might be 
a good idea. We could always ask our friends in Sunnydale to help out."

Oh, wonderful. All he needed was more of Buffy's friends hanging around.

"What about you?" Buffy was still talking to Gunn, her arms crossed over her 
chest. "Are you staying here or do you want that false passport?"

His eyes narrowed. Oh, Lord, he was taking the bait.

"Maybe I do."

Damn him.

"Good!" Giles said with unnecessary enthusiasm, probably in another attempt 
of damage control. Wesley could understand his dilemma, but wanted to hit 
him over the head anyway. "Angel? Do you want to go as well?"

Buffy gave him a glance and shook her head slightly, but Angel answered with 
perfect clarity, "Yeah... I think I'd better not. I mean, there's the 
vampire thing and -" he grimaced "-everything else, but I did also promise 
Wesley to stick around for a while."

Wesley smiled, touched by the vampire's concern, but Gunn finally took his 
eyes off Buffy, his jaw set tighter than before as he looked at Angel.

"Maybe I should be in the home team after all," he said. "Make sure things 
work out all right. And besides, there's the agency to think of."

He wasn't *actually* thinking of the agency, Wesley knew, it was just an 
excuse. And he didn't mind that excuse, knew far too well that sometimes 
honesty wasn't an option. That part was all right, it wasn't what made his 
throat thicken.

But the reason Gunn spoke of staying was because he couldn't stand Angel, 
and Wesley didn't know what to do about that. It was hardly surprising; Gunn 
was predisposed to hating vampires. At least he'd stopped calling Angel 
"it", and Wesley had started hoping Gunn might actually make an exception 
from his ethical stanza of "vampires are bad". But judging from his current 
behaviour that wasn't going to happen.

He wondered what Gunn would do if he found out Buffy's relation to Angel. 
Vomit, probably. Be relieved, possibly. The thought of jealousy, no matter 
how poorly justified, being behind Gunn's reactions was at least some sort 
of comfort. But also the last thing he needed right now.

"Quite," he said, trying to clear his thoughts. If Buffy and Giles took 
Faith to an English coven, that took care of part of the problem. If the 
rest of them efficiently delayed the Watchers in some yet to be discovered 
way, that took care of another part. But that didn't mean the problem was 
solved. "What about Alonna?"

Gunn's head whipped around. "What about her?"

His voice was harsh and hostile, clearly showing his worry. Fabulous. Now 
Wesley was the one to feel jealous. What a strange dance this was.

"Weatherby promised to make sure she was safe." He turned his eyes to Buffy. 
"Even if we do take Faith after they have left the hospital, she's still at 
risk. Perhaps she should be the one to come with you – it'd certainly keep 
her out of sight." Alonna could never afford a trip to England on her own, 
and the police would know that.

"You want her to go to *England*?" Gunn's expression would have been funny, 
except it wasn't.

"It's an option, at least."

"I don't know..." That was Buffy, pursing her lips a little. "We could get 
her the passport and tickets, sure, but can she hold her own? Otherwise it'd 
be safer to keep her here."

That caused Gunn to flare up. "Were *you* the one to take that Faith girl 
down or was she? Huh?"

Buffy's mouth opened in surprise, but she quickly closed it instead and 
nodded. "Fine. She can come with us."

"If we can arrange it," Giles pointed out.

"And if she wants to," Wesley said. He knew what it was like to travel half 
across the world and suspected it would be an even stranger notion to 
Alonna, who most likely had never been abroad and never thought to.

"And if she wants to. Of course."

**********

"So, you're sending my baby sister to England, huh?"

They were walking down the pavement outside Wesley's house, which hardly 
seemed like a suitable place for a quarrel. Wesley had to wonder why Gunn 
chose now to bring this up, instead of inside the apartment, sometime in the 
past quarter of an hour.

"I'm not sending her anywhere. It's up to her. She's fully capable of making 
her own decisions."

"But you'd be glad to get rid of her."

Wesley didn't answer, because he wasn't quite sure what the answer was. It 
wasn't "of course not" as it should have been, but it wasn't "yes" either – 
not anymore.

They walked in silence until they reached a public bulletin board. Wesley 
put down his bag and pulled out a poster, which Gunn thumbtacked to the 
board.

"Why'd you rather have that vampire around than me?"

Ah, so that was why they couldn't talk inside. Perhaps it was to be seen as 
an improvement that Gunn didn't want to discuss Angel around Angel, but 
right now, Wesley couldn't muster any enthusiasm for that progress.

"I... there are many reasons," he said, trying to shape those reasons into 
understandable words. "Angel knows Faith. Her history, what she's capable 
off. And apart from that, he knows what's it's like to be..." Wesley thought 
of what Faith had done, thought of the word Amnesty International would use 
for it, and silenced for a second. "I needed someone who could understand."

"Oh, yeah, the deep understanding of a crazy vampire," Gunn said bitterly. 
He shoved the pack of thumbtacks into his pocket and his hands in after 
them, before he started walking down the street again. "How the fuck do you 
expect me to understand if you don't *tell* me anything?"

Wesley fell into step. "Some things can't be told."

"You could try. " Gunn was now walking backwards, his eyes riveted on 
Wesley. "Fuck it, Wes, maybe I *don't* understand, but you haven't even 
given me a chance in that department, have you? I would have helped, you got 
to know that, so why couldn't you ask me?"

"Because I still have some dignity left!" Wesley hadn't meant it to come out 
quite so loud – there were a few people across the street, and he could see 
them staring. Well, nothing new there. "I won't be your charity case! This 
is hard enough without you there to despise me."

Gunn's mouth opened, and there was a pause while his mouth worked silently 
before he managed to splutter, "What's going on in your head, English? Since 
when do I *despise* you?"

Wesley hurried his steps, trying to avoid that gaze. "Fine. Pick your word. 
Condescension. Superiority. Pity. What's the difference?"

"So you're saying that if I feel sorry for you, it's gotta be because I 
despise you?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. But it is."

"That is such a load of *bullshit*!" Gunn exploded. "Do you think I'd *be* 
here if I despised you? I *care* about you. I'm allowed to do that. It's not 
a fucking insult, so why do you treat it like one? Do you think I'm lying to 
you? That I'd rather be with someone else?"

"That's not the point!" Wesley dropped the bag and stopped in his tracks. 
"This isn't about *us*! It's about me, and if I have to ask for help I want 
it from someone who's *been* there, and you *haven't*. It's all about 
strength to you. You've never found a battle you couldn't win, and you've 
never woken up to a world that wasn't made for you..."

"One more word and I'll swear to God I'll punch you," Gunn said, stepping 
closer. He'd taken his hands out of his pockets and closed them into fists. 
"You don't know shit about what I have or haven't. The world is made for me, 
is it? I'll think about that, the next time I go into a Seven-Eleven on a 
late Saturday night and the clerk starts looking for the alarm button."

Wesley's anger faded a little. He hadn't thought of that before, but Gunn 
had a point. "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply..." His voice trailed off.

"I know you didn't," Gunn said, letting his shoulders sink down. "It's just, 
sometimes you're so... What is it you want me to do? Find some psycho bitch 
to beat me up? A vampire to turn me so I can go broody in the night like 
your souled fangboy up there? Cut off my arm?" He gave a breathy 
half-laugher. "Not gonna happen, Wes. No more than you can get rid of that 
white face and fancy upbringing of yours. You can't wait for us to stop 
being different. We *are*, and we got to be able to work with that."

Wesley nodded silently, blinking a couple of times to clear his eyes. 
Looking up again, he said as calmly as he could, "Gunn, I am not ready to 
have you help me."

"Yeah, I know," Gunn said, his voice barely audible. He glanced down the now 
empty street and then in the other direction as well, before he moved closer 
still, brushing Wesley's lips with his own while his hand stroked the back 
of Wesley's head. When he pulled away again, his eyes were shining with 
unshed tears.

"Come on, English," he said, picking up the bag of posters. "We've got 
plenty of these to put up yet."

**********

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